


The Assistant

by deliberate_disassociation



Category: the GazettE (Band)
Genre: Also some shameless praising of this band that I love very much, Author has no clue how she wrote this in one day, F/M, Fluff, I was supposed to study instead of writing this, Implied F!reader, Kai being a responsible leader and cool musician at the same time, Reader has no clue how to admire people, Second person POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24679777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliberate_disassociation/pseuds/deliberate_disassociation
Summary: You've recently been made assistant to a stylist for this really popular visual kei band, and can't help noticing the drummer.
Relationships: Kai (the GazettE) x Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	The Assistant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnonimusUnnoan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonimusUnnoan/gifts).



> A big thank you to AnonimusUnnoan for encouraging me to share this. This is my first upload to AO3, and the first time in a while I've written a fic for the GazettE. Enjoy!

Your heart is beating faster ever as you follow the stylists into the dressing room; it’s your first day at this new job, and you so badly want it to go well. It’s not a bad position for someone who’s been out of college just a few months: assistant to a stylist of _the GazettE_ , one of Japan’s top visual kei bands. You know that visual kei puts a lot of emphasis on looks and image, so the major bands want only the best stylists and makeup artists working for them, making this an extremely important opportunity for you to prove yourself.

As of now, your job is to help the stylists design outfits for the band members, and help said members fit into them. They have a photoshoot today for one of their upcoming tour finals, so the outfits are already ready; you just have to make sure everyone has everything they need for now.

The band members aren’t here yet, just you, the stylists, and a few studio staff. “Good morning,” one of the staff members says, and the stylists greet them in return.

“G-good morning,” you manage to get out before joining the others at the clothing racks.

“The members should be here in a few minutes,” your senior tells you. “Once they’re done with hair and makeup, we can start fitting the costumes and make any last-minute adjustments. Keep the sewing kits handy.”

Just as you start pulling things out from the bags, you hear some commotion from the other end of the room, and look up to see five people enter, presumably the members, given that their faces are largely hidden by a mix of sunglasses and masks.

“Good morning,” they all say in turn as they keep their bags in different places of the room. One of them notices you and walks up to where you’re standing with the stylists.

“You must be the new stylist’s assistant,” he notes. “I’m Kai, drummer and band leader. Nice to meet you.”

“N-nice to meet you!” You say, a little too loudly, making the other members look over. Somehow, you’re able to introduce yourself without too much trouble, but that initial greeting was definitely not how you wanted things to go. You’ve never been in close proximity to so many famous people at the same time: there were a couple of really famous designers who came to campus every so often, but you didn’t intern with any of them, nor were you standing so close to anyone you _did_ interact with.

The band members take their masks and glasses out, and you see that they all have very sweet and kind faces underneath it all. Of course, it’s quite odd to see the bassist Reita without a noseband or mask, but that’s it. They’re not that bad-looking, really: the make-up just accentuates the good looks they already have. It’s hard to believe they’re all in their mid-thirties – even the oldest member, guitarist Aoi, doesn’t really look it.

As the makeup artists do their work, you spot Kai talking to some of the set managers. As the band leader, he must have a lot of work to do, and has to coordinate with everyone even while getting ready. You focus on checking the outfits for any loose stitches or anything that should be fixed, but you can’t help often glancing at Kai to see what he’s up to.

Unfortunately, you’re not helping him dress up; you have to help the guitarist Uruha, who always seems to have the most elaborate outfits: you’ve seen some of the stuff he’s worn in the past, and you’re torn between admiration and horror.

Uruha is quite friendly, and keeps up a running commentary on the movies he’s been watching lately. He’s quite comfortable with your senior, who has been his stylist for many years.

The first couple of hours have you running up and down the room, because the stylists need this and that, or someone left their bag in the car, or you have to call the head office to check on something. The vocalist, Ruki, had a last-minute idea about the pattern on his sleeves, so you’re flying to the big bag to pull out a different colour thread and some extra ribbons.

Finally, you’re all done, and you heave a sigh of relief as the band leaves for their photoshoot. It’ll be another job to get everyone _out_ of their costumes, but that’s for later. Right now, you have to clean up and put the sewing supplies away.

“Are we allowed to see the photoshoot?” You ask the other stylist as you help pack their kits.

“Of course,” he says. “You’re nearly done, right? We can go to the studio in a few minutes.”

Once everything’s cleared up, you follow the others to the room where the band is having their photoshoot. As you enter, you see they’re partly done with the individual photos, and you find yourself a nice corner to settle in just as it’s Kai’s turn.

It’s like he’s become a different person the moment the lens is turned towards him: the kind and friendly demeanour, the responsible manner in which he conducted himself is hidden away. In its place is a performer, an artist whose entire world starts with the camera in front of him and ends with the set behind him. His expression is serious and brooding, the intense gaze captured every few seconds by the photographer. His long dark hair frames his face in a way you’d describe as beautiful. His callused hands (or so you assume, given that he’s a drummer) reach up to his lips when his eyes find you, hiding in the corner of the room.

Your eyes meet as the camera shutter clicks.

The photo will be included in the concert pamphlet.

****

It’s some time before you work with the band again. You’ve been busy helping other stylists and designers with their projects and clients, and you’re working on your own portfolio on the side. Once you have enough experience and a solid folder of designs, maybe you can start working as a proper stylist rather than just an assistant.

And yet, despite all your work, you can’t stop thinking about Kai. You barely spoke to him before the photoshoot, but you did help him out afterwards, when the members were changing out of their outfits.

You noticed Kai looking a little uncomfortable with his jacket when he called you over. It turned out that he was having some trouble removing it, given that it was ever so slightly _tight._

This wasn’t even an unusual issue: sometimes the situation called for fitted outfits, so you knew what you were working with. “Here, I’ll try the upper arms…” you went behind him and started helping him wriggle out of it. You could feel his muscular arms underneath the jacket, and wondered if it was all from playing drums, or if he worked out as well.

It took a while, but you were finally able to help him get out of it, leaving him in his tank top underneath. He stretched out a bit, and you had a perfect view of all his muscles.

It’s a sight that refuses to leave your mind, even now; this might be a slight issue, since you’re going to be helping out _again_ at the actual tour final.

Tour finals are an all-day business, especially with such a meticulous band. Your senior (who is also going to be there) told you that sometimes Kai can be found talking with the staff until the very last minute: there’s so much to keep track of, and he’s the band representative, so he has to coordinate with all parties to make the live enjoyable and successful.

You can’t help but admire him for his dedication: it takes commitment and willpower to agree to lead a band like that. And he’s been doing it for so long, too.

You’re a little less jumpy on the day of the concert; you and the stylists have everything planned out, and set times for when to do each task. You won’t be helping them with the outfits right away, though: they get hair and make-up done followed by a really long rehearsal. Sometimes members might have the outfits put on in the beginning, but not always.

“Good morning,” the chorus comes around half-past nine in the morning. You’ve been in the dressing room for a while, having carefully transported the outfits from storage to the arena an hour ago. No time to worry about sleep deprivation: it’s not about you today.

“Good morning,” you reply back cheerfully, peering around the racks of possible outfits the members might wear for the encore: they usually sport tour goods for the second half of the concert.

You catch Kai’s eye, and he nods at you as he takes his seat for the make-up artists to do their thing. He’s looking through a ton of papers while he’s being prepped, and in the middle of looking for something, half the sheets slip out of his hand.

“I’ll get those!” You rush over and pick the papers up from the ground.

“Thanks,” he says, looking worried, taking them from you. “Sorry, there’s just so much to do today.”

As you give him the sheets, you can feel his hands lightly brushing against yours. His fingers are callused, just as you suspected. But it strikes you only now just how _large_ his hands are compared to yours. It’s never something you considered. Then again, you never really noticed his hands the first time you saw him.

Once ready, the members head out for soundcheck and eventually the rehearsal. Every so often someone will come back in for an outfit fitting or an alteration. When it’s Kai’s turn, he also walks over to the rack of t-shirts. You follow him, ready to help with anything he needs.

“What would you like to wear for the encore, Kai-san?” You ask, hovering nearby. The makeup makes him look so good, it’s unfair. Added to the fact that he’s still in casuals, and you have to force yourself to try and calm down.

He considers for a moment, perusing through the rows of clothes. “This one, I think.” He pulls out a white t-shirt that you think is quite nice. “Can you keep this on the side for me? I have to run for rehearsal.”

You nod, taking it from him. His hands don’t brush against yours this time, but it’s close. He thanks you before picking up his gloves and dashing out of the room.

With a couple of hours free until the members return to get dressed, you have your lunch and peer out from backstage to see everyone rehearsing: members playing music and the staff performing stage, sound, and light checks. They’re still finishing up some of the lighting, but for the most part everything looks ready.

You watch Kai playing the drums, and realize he looks incredibly cool. He plays them with a confidence you envy; he makes it seem like he magically appeared in front of a drum set one day, and he’s never been away from it ever since.

As you stare at him, you realize that he’s able to slip into so many different roles seamlessly: musician, model, band leader, friend. The realization makes him glow a little in your eyes, and the beautiful sight in front of you nearly takes your breath away.

In the evening, you’re half-scared of returning to the backstage area during the concert, for fear of what you might see. You quietly help the band members get dressed and keep their encore outfits ready. Kai is, luckily for you, preoccupied with ensuring the show is going smoothly, but in the last few minutes before they’re to leave for the stage, you catch him sitting alone on the couch, practicing the drums by using his thighs as pads.

You slowly approach him, and he looks up. You can’t read the expression in his eyes: it’s something you’ve never seen before.

“Are you nervous?” You ask quietly.

“Probably,” he admits. “I’ve played to crowds larger than these before, but every tour final’s a different experience. Even if it’s fun, I always have a lot to think about even during the performance.”

“Good luck,” you tell him. “I’ll have your t-shirt waiting for you when you come back.”

After a few seconds, his face breaks into a smile, and he stands up. “Thank you.” His voice is warm and genuine.

The manager pops his head into the room. “Everyone, it’s time to go.”

Kai nods at you before leaving the room with the others. You and the other staff members follow the band out, and watch as they hold hands for their cheer. You’ve never heard it before, but when Kai leads it, you feel this strong sense of confidence and power, like you could present your designs as they are now at Paris Fashion Week in front of the harshest critics ever, and still not be afraid.

You see him transform into someone else entirely as he leaves to take his place on the stage. He’s not just a musician, or a leader, or a performer – he’s all of it rolled into one. You can only see his back, but you imagine there’s a fire in his eyes. A fire that will take him through the live and put on the best show possible for everyone.

The concert passes in a rush – you can barely register what’s going on. There’s a television in the dressing room with a live feed, and you and the others crowd around it when you’re not keeping things ready for the interval. Through the darkness and smoke and occasional lights, you can see how passionate Kai is about the drums: you thought you saw it earlier in the day, but this is something truly unique. The energy he devotes to it is like nothing you’ve ever seen before. It’s unearthly.

“Last two songs, everyone,” one of the make-up artists says, checking the copy of the set list in the dressing room. “They’ll be here in ten minutes.”

And they are. They come back drenched in sweat, looking tired but in a good mood. There’s just enough time for them to quickly change into their encore outfits and have their makeup redone slightly. It’s so busy that you don’t even blink an eye when you spot Kai removing his jacket and tank top, and pulling on the white t-shirt you laid out for him. He catches you looking and smiles. _Thanks_ , he mouths, before hurrying to speak with the others about something. He has to go back on stage first for the encore, so anything that needs to be checked has to be checked _now_.

You gather everyone’s clothes from where they’ve left it, and hang them up to air out. You’ll have to get them cleaned tomorrow, and then figure out where to store them now that the band doesn’t need them anymore.

Kai really seems to be enjoying himself during the encore. In between clearing up, you check out the live feed, and watch as he gets the crowd going. _It looks like so much fun_ , you think wistfully. _I wish I could be there too._ But you’re also pretty sure that most of the audience wishes they could be in your position: getting to work _this_ closely with the band would sound like a dream come true for them.

While the encore is going on, you help the staff set up drinks and snacks for everyone in the hallway. There’s going to be a mini afterparty once the concert ends, after which you’ll need to pack things up for good. Luckily, most of it gets done during the concert itself, so the only things left are the outfits the band is wearing at the moment.

When the concert ends, you can hear the members talking and sharing their thoughts and feelings with the audience. It warms your heart to no end when you notice that every single one of them thanked the staff for supporting them and making the live possible. You also know that all of you will also be mentioned in the credits of the DVD recording. What’s sweet is how they add “…and all of you” at the end, appreciating the fans too. To this band, every single person counts, no matter what.

Earlier in the day, you’d told yourself the concert wasn’t about you, it was about the five members on stage. Well, these five members are challenging that thought: the concert is about _everyone_. Band, staff, fans…everyone here makes the live what it is. It’s a celebration of, for, and by everyone.

You join the others in applauding them when they return backstage for the final time. They’ve really worked hard for this, and they deserve every bit of appreciation possible. Everyone crowds around the tables for the afterparty, exhausted but happy. It’s been a long day, but your job isn’t over. You have to pack up the remaining clothes and have them transported back to the office before you can rest.

You find yourself standing not too far away from Kai, who’s talking to the band manager and a couple others. It’s not a work-related conversation, however, so they all wave you over, and you join in.

“Will you be staying at the hotel too?” Kai asks you. The members and most of the staff are staying the night in nearby hotels, since it’ll get too late to go back home.

You shake your head. “I live a few minutes away from here, so I’m going to go back home.”

“Will it be safe, if you go that late?”

“It’s a well-lit area,” you tell him, “so it shouldn’t be an issue. In any case, the carpool will drop me back.”

He nods, looking a little concerned, but doesn’t say anything else about it. After the party, it’s a mad rush to pack up before it gets too late. When you’re finally done, you grab your handbag and the outfits and follow the stylists to the van. With a little help from the others, you manage to send the clothes back to the office, one of the other staff members supervising the return.

You say goodbye to whoever’s left at the arena before beginning the walk home. The streetlights are working properly, and there are still quite a few people around. In between, you stop at the convenience store to buy some dinner (the snacks were nowhere near enough).

When you finally get home and pull out your phone from the back pocket of the handbag to check your messages, you notice a small slip of paper folded above it.

You’ve stuffed receipts in there before, but this paper is much smaller. Opening it, you see it has a phone number…and a message.

_xxx-xxxx-xxxx_  
Text me anytime.  
\- Kai

Even though you’re so tired you could sleep for a month, you giggle. Looks like you’re going to be an assistant stylist to this band for some more time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
